It Happens For A Reason
by IFiWEREaROBOT
Summary: Tonight, Altaïr is haunted by his mistake in Solomon's Temple, but Malik is surprisingly glad it happened. Malik x Altaïr.


**Author's Note: **I was recently given a very interesting prompt in my Language Arts class: _Can you "do it over" if you make a mistake in life?_ It got me to thinking about my two favorite characters, as most things usually do, so please take these musings with a grain of salt. They're just the ramblings of an overexcited fangirl.

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**It Happens For A Reason**

_Everything in life,_

_whether it's good or bad,_

_happens for a reason;_

_My only reason is you._

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Some nights, when sleep eludes him, Altaïr is prone to entertaining thoughts that he wouldn't dare voice, or even think at all, during the day. He thinks about all the terrible things he's done in his life; the lives he's taken, the mistakes he's made. When he was a younger man, he used to think about what his life would be like if he had never joined the Brotherhood, if he had grown up like a normal boy with a mother and father, but he has long since accepted the blood on his hands.

Nowadays, he mostly obsesses over Solomon's Temple- or, more specifically, Malik. It starts out simple, with the innocent thought of what the man would be like if he still had both arms. Malik would still blame him for the death of his brother, of course, but at least he would be able to keep himself occupied; at least he would still be an assassin. Perhaps, someday, Malik would have even looked down on him and lorded his higher rank over Altaïr's head (but he highly doubts it, because he assumes Malik is more mature than that). Or maybe Malik would simply avoid him altogether by taking mission after mission, drowning his hate and anger and sorrow in his work, until one day he slipped up and ended up dead.

Which only makes him speculate about what kind of man he would be now if Malik had died with Kadar on that fateful day. He remembers Al Mualim's fury at his failure to recover the artifact, and his own crushing guilt when he thought that he had lost the both of them for good. Would he had been able to go as far as he had, accomplish has much as he did, without Malik's not-so-gentle encouragement and scathing remarks? Maybe. Maybe not. He doesn't get much farther than that, because he doesn't like to think about a life without Malik.

And all of this somehow leads into the guilty little wish that Kadar was still alive; not because he was particularly fond of him, but because Malik was. If they had somehow managed to nab the artifact and make it back to the Brotherhood in one piece, it would have been just another mission. Malik wouldn't hate or like him anymore than he already did and they could have all gone on with their lives, just as it should be. This scenario hurts Altaïr the most because it's what should have happened from the start; it was the future he could have had if he hadn't been so proud and arrogant, and made such a reckless mistake.

Altaïr can cycle through these thoughts for hours, until Malik comes into the bedroom with ink on his fingers and the smell of scented candles still clinging to his clothes. Malik only has to take one look at him before he knows that he's been thinking about. He slides into bed beside him and holds him around the shoulders in a familiar gesture so overwhelming that Altaïr can almost forget the fact that he has one strong arm instead of two.

Malik murmurs quietly about the Pieces of Eden, about their corrupt Master and his abuse of the creed and Brotherhood, and gently reminds him that _he_ was the one to see through Al Mualim's lies; that if it weren't for Solomon's Temple, Al Mualim would have succeeded and turned their people into mindless slaves. Altaïr still isn't convinced (his ego is not as easily stoked as it was was before), but Malik is sly and keeps his trump card for last. He leans in closer and squeezes his shoulder a little lighter before whispering into his ear,

_"You are not the same man that entered that temple with me so long ago, and I would gladly give both my arms if it meant I could meet this incredible man that I have come to love today."_

Altaïr has heard these words man times before, but they never cease to amaze him and his reaction is still the same as when he first heard them. He takes Malik into his arms and holds him tightly- not like a delicate woman, but like the dependable man that he was and still is- and kisses him breathless until the first lights of dawn break through the darkness; bleak and pale, but promising.


End file.
